


From one Fosterling to Another

by bookwormfaith



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4670240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormfaith/pseuds/bookwormfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The House of Elrond has a long association with fostering and fosterlings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From one Fosterling to Another

Estel is still young, by the standards of both Men and Elves, but old enough to think he knows better, and today in an uncharacteristic fit of rebellion, he has slipped away from where Erestor left him to his sums in the library, drawn outside by fresh spring air and sunshine. Because he cannot quite bring himself to be _entirely_ bad, he brought the book of sums with him, but his slate and chalk and the sheaf of papers with his work is left abandoned as he idly watches the fish in the clear stream of the river. Mindful of how cold the snowmelt can be, he doesn't get too close on purpose, but he's leaning out over the stream wondering if he can tickle trout the way his foster brothers do, when a shadow leans over him.

"Careful youngling, or you'll fall."

He blinks up in surprise at the strange voice, twisting to see an unfamiliar elf. Noldo, like most in the Valley, and taller than even Glorfindel and _Ada_ , with kind eyes and a silver fillet about his brow.

"I was being careful." He says matter-of-factly, but he gets up to bow politely as he has been taught. "But thank you, sir. Who are you?"

"So solemn!" The stranger laughs and rocks back on his heels to pat the ground next to him invitingly, an invitation Estel is glad to accept. "A friend of your foster father's. Although I rather thought you were meant to be studying things other than fish!"

Estel shoots a guilty glance at his abandoned work and flushes. "It was too nice to stay inside." He says guiltily, and the stranger smiles at him.

"I know that feeling very well - I used to sneak out too, you know - although I lived by the sea and not a river."

"The sea?" Estel looks at him avidly. "I've never been - what is it like?"

"Hm, cold, and wet, mostly." He teases, and laughs at the face Estel pulls, conceeding. "Vast and wild and frightening when the storms roll in. Ever changing but constant, in its own way. I escaped the house often, as I did not want to be there, you see - I had been sent there away from my family for my protection, but I missed my home."

Estel nods, slowly. "I am... being fostered here because my father is dead." He admits softly. "I love it here, and _ada_ and everyone are so kind, but... mother is so often sad, and I think she misses her home too. I... worry that I hurt her by being so content here, but it is the only home I have ever known."

"It is hard." The stranger nods. "But I am sure she appreciates the joy you have found here. Parents will often do things they do not enjoy for the sake of their children, but they find joy in knowing their children are happy, I think. I thought like you, when I learnt to enjoy myself, that I was hurting my father. But as I grew older, I realised that I made him happy by being happy myself."

Estel nods thoughtfully. "I... thank you, sir, I will remember that."

"Good!" The stranger laughs. "And now I think I, and the fish, have distracted you long enough from your studies, eh? You are missed, I think."

"Estel!" Sure enough, Estel can now hear the voices of the household, calling for him in mixed exasperation and worry, and he flushes guiltily. 

"Lord Erestor will be mad at me." He says softly.

"Then you had best apologise, and quickly!" The stranger smiles at him. "Erestor can be harsh but he was always fair."

"I will. Thank you." Estel smiles and gathers his things to dash in the direction of the voices. "Coming!"

Remembering, he turns to the stranger. "Will I see you...." _again?_ the question hangs in the air, for there is no one there any longer, and Estel blinks at the place where the tall elf with the star on his brow sat in confusion until Erestor's voice reaches him again, and he turns slowly to return.

It is only in his history lesson next week, when he sees the face wrought with such love and care in the tapestries of the Last Alliance, that he recognises why the stranger had looked familiar.


End file.
